


Something About You

by AngelsAvengeMe



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Gen, Hand Kink, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsAvengeMe/pseuds/AngelsAvengeMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was going to get to the real Tony, no matter what it took.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something About You

There was something about hands. Well – no, not hands in general, just… _his_ hands.

They were different, different in a way he couldn’t quite understand. Maybe it was the details, the one his artistic eye gravitated towards. The purity of imperfection they held. It made him curious. What did the average person see when they looked at them? What did they feel when their fingers glided across the scarred and calloused skin? Were the hands as nimble and gentle as they were strong?

Bucky always did say he was too inquisitive for his own good.

He glanced at Tony’s hands once more. It was like watching a dancer get lost in the music, or an artist paint because they were inspired: something beautiful and oddly natural.

The problem was, he couldn’t stop staring.

He was only down in the darkened lab to try to get Tony to eat, pretend like he wasn’t another machine, at least for a few hours. His plan had quickly backfired once he saw Tony. The smaller man was hunched over his worktable, the glow of the light box illuminating him in an eerie light, his reactor tingeing it a soft blue. Tony looked gorgeous. Not normally a word he’d associate with a man, but here, like this, there was no other name – at least none he knew. Sitting there on that stupid dilapidated stool, completely all-consumed and in his element, there was literally nothing more gorgeous than what he was seeing at this very moment.

Tony being… _Tony_.

He felt the fingers twitch in anticipation, ready to draw, ready to create. The lines of Tony’s body were perfectly arched and contrasting to his normal stance: one of power and audacity. The Tony he was seeing now was another layer, another part of the complicated man. One that he just knew people rarely got to see. It almost felt like he was intruding in on an intimate moment, and it probably was, knowing Tony. The way his hands twisted the wire and carefully held the tweezers gripping the tiniest computer chip. The way they seemed to caress the sheet metal as he put it back in place and cautiously gliding the screws back into place.

It was no secret Tony loved technology, loved creating it and perfecting it. It was something special to him in ways Steve could only fathom. No wonder he liked to keep to himself as he did it. Or why else would he seclude himself, far away from liked minded individuals?

But maybe that was it. Something Steve had known since meeting Tony was that he operated on a different wavelength. He was as smart as he was brave: something he had horribly misjudged when he’d first met the man. Tony couldn’t be around people he didn’t see as able. Able to keep up with him in one-way or another; whether it be intelligence or wit, or something else all together. Which explained so much about Tony it made Steve’s stomach jump. He felt like he was on the verge of some kind of breakthrough; some sort of insight into the mystery that was Tony Stark. And like all those mysteries and thrillers he’d read as a kid, he just had to know how it ended. He needed the find out who the culprit was, and in this case, who was the real Tony Stark? Was the arrogant man he’d first met all those months ago? Was it the man who’d saved an entire city by sacrificing himself? Or was it the man he was seeing now. The one who was so involved in what he was doing that he had yet to realize Steve was there.

The answer came over him like a sunrise: slow but brilliant. Something his mother had said to him so many years ago.

He had loved his father so much. He had been kind and gentle. An academic man who had fallen on hard times when the Depression hit. But there were always moments, moments when he couldn’t understand the hatred the man had spewed and the things he did. How could this man be the same person? Someone who could love so deeply, but hurt just as hard? It had confused his developing mind, so much so he had asked his mother one night, after recovering from a rather bad bought of pneumonia. Lying on his lumpy little bed, covered in hand-stitched quilts, a soft hand carding gently through his hair, he had posed the question. _Why does dad act so strange?_ The hand in his hair had stopped momentarily at that. He could still remember the spike of fear in his heart that he’d said the wrong thing and made his mother mad. But she had quickly continued in her ministrations, a look of concentration on her face.

 _Well honey_ , she had said, _I wouldn’t say your father is strange. He is the way he is because some people’s layers aren’t as synched as others might be._ She had huffed a laugh at the expression that had crossed his face. Utter confusion. S _ee, some people are more – complicated I’d say, like a twelve-sided die. Where other people, like you and me, are like coins. Not in a bad way, no. We’re more simple, what you see is what you get. It makes us easy to get along with: easy to understand, in a way. Where people like your father, they have many sides, not just two or three._ She had then hopped into the small bed and cuddled close to him, her delicate hand still petting at his head, her distinct smell overwhelming him. Her head rested against his and she hmm’d to herself.

 _I’m afraid I’m not explaining this very well, dear. All I really mean is that your father is complex because some time, long ago, before you were ever born and I met him, some part of him decided that he needed barriers – layers to conceal the true him. Something to keep him safe._ He hadn’t understood back then. How could someone like his father be afraid of anything? It didn’t seem possible; he had said as much to his mother. She had just laughed again, a sad kind this time, and kissed the side of his head. _When you’re older, unfortunately you’ll see why, my love._ After several minutes, he had felt the need of sleep start to tug at his eyes, and was almost gone, when his mother continued, her voice soft.

_Just try and remember that, sometimes these other… layers need to come out and show themselves, Stevie. It’s times like those that you need to remember the true person beneath. Don’t let the bad layers validate the fears of the good. And don’t get blindsided by them. …Think of it as an exam with a reward at the end. Each layer is a new section of your study and you have to pass it to get to the next. You just have to continue, until soon, you’ve noticed you reached the end and need to be graded. Well, you may not get a hundred percent, but you sure as hell passed, at least enough to get a glimpse at the prize. And oh honey, let me tell you, is it ever a glorious prize. It’s aces, and you’d do anything to get at it again. Trust me._

And he did. After that night, he had seen his father in a different light. He looked at him as a puzzle to solve like in the novels he read, instead of an unsteady, ever-changing figure. If he could figure out which parts of his father where layers, and which part was the core, he just knew he could help his father. Help him feel safe.

Just like what he was going to do with Tony. Tony was one of those people his mother had taught him about that night. He was someone who was too afraid to be themselves, so they created facades as a way to warn people off. Just another way to justify the bad they believed. Unfortunately, his father had died before he had had the chance to get to know the real man beneath it all. This time though, he wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t let Tony down. He’d show him that it wasn’t so bad to be the real him.

He cleared his throat, causing Tony to jump slightly in his seat. A set of wide brown eyes met his, his confusion clear in them, but something else too, a raw openness of sorts. Before he had the chance to study the look further, a veil fell over Tony’s face. His features quickly changing to that of the cocky, self-assured layer that Steve had come so well to know. His stubbled chin rested against the back of his hand as he stared at Steve through thick lashes.

“You know, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid. And you know, I’m always up for a little fun.” The sultry tone in Tony’s voice made his cheeks heat up. But he refused to bite the bait, and just barely stopped an eye roll in response.

“I just wanted to make sure you got some food. Clint ordered from that pizza joint again. Thought you might want some, you know, before it got cold and moldy this time.”

Tony just snorted and swiveled his head to go back to work on his latest project.

“Thanks but no thanks, Cap.”

Steve put his larger hand over Tony’s just as he was about to grab some pliers. He felt the other man still. Steve moved his hand away, a conflicted look passed over Tony’s face.

“Tony, come and eat. I don’t think you’ve even left here in days.”

A small puff of air left Tony.

“Why?”

Steve had a feeling that Tony’s question wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.

“Because Tony…,” he wanted so badly to say it was because we – I care. Something to show him he was important. But being straightforward, especially with emotions, was something that rarely worked with Tony. Plan B it was. Sarcasm.

“Eating is essential to live, in case you forgot.” He stared at the side of Tony’s face, willing Tony to move and look him in eye.

He wanted to take this slow – breaking down each wall. To always give Tony the option to back out if things got to be too much: a very important thing to remember if you ever wanted to be in Tony’s Good Books. Even though they’d only known each other for a few months, Steve felt that there was a high, but ever-building level of trust between them, the relationship between them shaping to reflect it. They had come to know so much about one another, purposefully and not. Like how Tony knew he couldn’t sleep well after an argument with a friend, a small part of him – the child in him – so afraid of being abandoned and afraid of not being able to. And how he knew Tony would never back down from a challenge, no matter how dangerous and uncomfortable it made him. It was these things, unspoken but true, that had them becoming such good friends so fast.

Tony just rolled his eyes, finally turning to face Steve again, his mouth quirked in a half-hearted smile.

“If you wanted to spend more time with me, all you had to do was ask.”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, and he definitely didn’t hold back this time.

“Come on Tony, if you leave now I’ll let you have the last slice.”

He didn’t know why he did it, force of habit he guessed, but he held his hand out, ready to help Tony up from the stupid stool. Thankfully, Tony either didn’t seem to care, or was being nice enough to ignore the supposed transgression and slipped his lithe hand into Steve’s bigger one, tightening his grip as he pulled himself up.

“Pfft, so you say, but when it comes down to the last slice, we all know it’ll be yours. One way or another.” And with that, Tony, still holding his hand, led the way out of the lab. Only letting go with one last squeeze once they reached the elevator, Tony’s long fingers carefully slipping through Steve’s careful hold.

He looked over at Tony, who was already fiddling with one of his tablet-things, those beautiful hands and elegant fingers no doubt creating something magical.

There was so much about Tony he didn’t know; so many layers that were wrapped tight, some that he may never even see. But yet, he was oddly okay with that.

No matter how long it would take, he wanted to puzzle the pieces that were Tony back together. Catch a glimpse of the true man behind the mask. Learn where those hands had been, understand what those tired eyes had seen.

He wanted to be more than a blip in Tony’s life.

And damned if he didn’t get what he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Soo, I don't really know where I was going with this but, hopefully you guys like it! :) And if you do, I might make more and make this a series :s


End file.
